When Tessa woke up, she was alone. The cot groaned as she sat up. Light seeped through the cracks between the shutters and Tessa looked around the cottage.

It was a single room. Random pieces of furniture were scattered around. There was a low-slung chair in front of a shabby fireplace. A tiny table with a straight-back chair was pushed against the far wall. A threadbare carpet ended just shy of the uncomfortable bed, and a turned-over crated served as a makeshift table.

There were small puddles of light scattered between the slices that snuck in from outside. Tessa realized they came from battery-powered camping lanterns. The glow of one fell across books stacked next to the bed.

Tessa picked up the one on top. The spine was broken in, the pages well-worn. “The Odyssey?” She read the title out loud.

“It’s a classic.”

Tessa found Tristan watching her from the far side of the room, a plate of unidentifiable food in one hand.

“Yeah,” she answered. “Not the lightest reading material ever.”

Tristan glanced back at the stack. Tessa smiled when she saw an old-school spy novel now at the top.

“Now that’s what I call a beach read.”

Tristan shrugged, but Tessa felt a little thrill when he gave her a small smile. It was a wonderful sight. And her desire to make it wider was intense.

“What do you have there?” She pointed at the plate.

“Food. Well, sort of. Pretty much the only thing I have here.”

Tessa got out of bed, relishing the way Tristan’s eyes tumbled down her naked body. She was pretty damn sure that look matched her own as she crossed to where he was standing shirtless.

“I am kinda hungry.” The plate was a jumble of crackers, pastries, and bagels that looked at least two days old. Tessa’s stomach growled, wishing it was bacon.

“Sorry. I don’t have a stove here. I don’t usually cook.”

“You don’t say,” Tessa teased, nibbling on a piece of stale muffin. It wasn’t bad, but Tessa could think of a few other things she’d much rather be eating.

A breeze slipped through the crack around the cabin’s front door and Tessa shivered. Tristan dropped the plate on the nearby table and grabbed the shirt that was hanging on the chair. He slipped it over her head before she could protest.

“Don’t want you catching cold, on top of everything else,” he said, his brow drawn down in concentration.

“I appreciate the thought. But you can stop worrying about me,” she assured him. “I’m fine.”

Tristan picked up her bandaged hand where she’d rested it on his arm. He fingered the dressing, making sure it was tight and dry. “We need to change this.”

Tessa registered a dull ache in her palm but was far more focused on the one in his eyes.

“Hey.” She angled his face her way with her free hand. “I haven’t had a chance to thank you.”

“Thank me?”

“For saving my life.”

Tristan stumbled back, something dark flooding his expression. “No.”

“Yes.” Tessa gripped his shoulder so he couldn’t escape.

“No,” he repeated, stronger. “I’m the reason you were out there, Tessa. I’m the reason….” He blinked, unable to finish the thought. “I’m the reason,” he tried again, “you’re hurt.”

“No.” Tessa shook her head. “I’m the reason I’m hurt. You’re the reason I’m alive.”

Tristan winced, color leaching from his face.

Tessa wouldn’t let him look away. “I’m the one who decided to go out in the storm. That was all me.” Tristan started to growl and she stopped him, continuing, “And I’ll agree it was a stupid decision. But, stupid or not, I’d do it again.”

“Why?”

Tessa didn’t know how one word could hold so much hope, and so much trepidation. “Because…. You weren’t telling the truth, Tristan. Yesterday, in your room. You were lying. To us both.” She took his hand in her good one and squeezed. “Because no matter what you’re running from, in here”—she pressed their clasped hands to his chest—“you know we’re friends. More than that now.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I hope.”

“Tessa.” Tristan groaned her name before kissing her.

“I’d do it again,” she swore. “You run, I’ll follow. Again. In a heartbeat.”

Tristan swept her up in his arms, his hands gripping her thighs, her legs wrapped around his waist. He held her tight to his chest as he took her mouth in wide, possessive strokes. It was more than a kiss. It was a claiming. Wild and raw and untethered. Tessa tasted the same intense energy that she’d seen drive him out to open water.

“Tessa.” Tristan’s plea was part pleasure, part pain as he sank to the rough cabin floor, settling her across his lap, never breaking their kiss.

Tessa squirmed, getting as close to him as she could. He was hard and hot beneath her, solid and perfect. Tessa ran her fingers across the smooth stretch of his shoulders, digging deep every time Tristan’s tongue surged into her mouth.

He groaned when she stopped at the base of his neck, massaging the muscles there that were always so tense. The bandage on her left hand shielded some of his skin, but Tessa could feel the deep ridge that started at the top of his spine.

Tristan tensed, just as he had the night before, when she touched him there. Tessa was desperate to ask. To see. But he wasn’t ready. And if it had anything to do with why he was the way he was, Tessa wasn’t sure she was either.

But, unlike before, she didn’t pull away. Tessa opened her mouth, her lips and tongue soft, welcoming Tristan’s onslaught. His possession was fierce and focused. Tristan’s grip on her hips held her flush across his lap, his strength holding her down so she couldn’t even rock against him. Like he couldn’t stand for her to shift away, even a little bit, if it meant not touching her for one second. Tristan’s other hand held Tessa where her neck met her shoulder, his long, rough fingers wrapping around the base of her throat.

Tessa couldn’t ignore the way Tristan held her, like she belonged to him. Like he was marking ownership. And she couldn’t ignore the way his hands flexed, gripping tighter, every time she brushed the scar that cut down to the top of his shoulder blade.

Tristan rocked his hips up and Tessa gasped. He sucked the sound out of her mouth with another kiss and Tessa’s eyes rolled up, little pricks of light flashing behind her closed lids. Still, she didn’t let go.

Tessa spread her fingers as far as she could reach. She was so much smaller than him, her hand barely covering half of Tristan’s shoulder blade. Which made what she felt even worse. Because the deep groove at the top of his neck was only the start. The farther Tessa got, the wider the network of scars became.

Some were thinner than others, fine threads that intersected with deeper, sharper lines. Tessa whimpered into the kiss when she reached what must have been the epicenter of the injury. The divot was deep, a crater that cut into his rock-hard muscle. Tristan shook when Tessa flattened her palm against it. The wound had healed ages ago, the thinly stretched skin smooth with age. But, old or not, the injury was raw and tears burned behind Tessa’s lids as wave after wave of emotion poured through the big, strong man beneath her.

They didn’t speak. Tessa didn’t even know where to start. But they kissed, endlessly. Tristan drank from her mouth like it was the source of his next breath and the very reason to keep breathing.

Tessa accepted every stroke, every bite, every sweep of his tongue, every push of his lips. Throughout it all, she held on tight. Her inner thighs gripped his hips, his jeans rubbing against her sensitive skin. She kept her arms looped around his shoulders, one hand stroking the hair at the base of his neck. And the other pressed, simply, firmly, against the ragged skin on his back.

Time passed. She had no idea how much. Slowly, their kisses softened. Tristan’s chest rose on a deep inhale and he feathered light pecks along the corner of her mouth. They both ignored the salt that stained her cheeks, where the tears that Tessa hadn’t been able to stop had dried.

“We need to get back,” Tristan whispered.

Tessa just nodded. She didn’t want to leave the cabin. Less than twenty-four hours ago she hadn’t known it existed. But, now that she did, she wanted to stay. It was rough and shabby and nothing like the hotel or her apartment. And it was where Tristan lived.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. The hurricane’s passed.”

Tessa focused on the world outside the little room and realized he was right. The rain had stopped and the wind was gone. The light piercing the windows was brighter. Sunlight. Not the cold gray from before.

“I have to check the damage. See what needs to be fixed.”

“Yes,” Tessa sighed, shifting in his lap and ignoring how his hard cock called to her where it pressed into her thigh.

Tristan leaned back, his lips angled in what Tessa realized was humor. “You gonna get up?”

“Just a second,” she complained, not at all ready to leave the warmth and comfort of her perch. Then a question punctured her hazy brain. “Tristan?”

“Yeah?”

“Why did you leave?”

“Leave?”

“Before the storm. Why didn’t you stay at the hotel? Why the hell did you come out here?”

“Oh.” Tristan looked away, his jaw locked tight. “Honestly? I didn’t think about it. After you left, I couldn’t stay in that room. I went for a run. A long one. When I was done, I came here.” Tristan glanced around the cabin. “It isn’t the sturdiest place, but it’s solid enough. I knew it would weather the storm. It’s survived plenty before. And….” He trailed off, unable to meet Tessa’s eyes.

“And?” Tessa tilted his face to hers. She hated the shame she saw there.

“I couldn’t go back to the hotel. I was so cruel to you, Tessa. I’m so sorry.” Regret lined his stern, gorgeous features. “I should never have said the things I did. It was awful.” He hauled in a deep breath. “I was awful.”

Tessa studied him. “You definitely were an ass.”

“I was.”

“Glad you can admit it.” Tessa smiled softly, tracing the corner of his mouth with one finger. “Can I make a request?”

Tristan groaned when Tessa followed her finger with the tip of her tongue. She really wasn’t playing fair.

“Yes.” It was more of a moan than a word.

Her brown eyes locked on his blue. “Next time, just talk to me. I know you’re getting used to this having-a-friend thing. And I’ll be the first to admit that you pull off the whole mysterious, moody vibe really well. Like, really, really well.”

Tristan chuckled, despite his cautious expression.

“But it won’t work. Not between us. Not now that we’re….” Tessa stopped, unsure what to say.

“Not now that we’re sleeping together?” Tristan supplied.

“Are we? Sleeping together?”

“Yes.” It reverberated with conviction. “Yes,” Tristan repeated. “We’re sleeping together. And”—he nipped the bottom of her chin—“doing a lot more, I hope.”

“In that case,” Tessa continued, her eyes warm but serious. “Just talk to me. You don’t have to explain everything. Shit, you don’t have to explain anything. At least, not right away. But don’t lash out. Don’t push me away. And, please, don’t leave. Don’t disappear on me like that. Not again.”

Tristan threaded his fingers through her knotted hair and kissed her, slow and long. “Tessa,” he sighed, pulling back. “I’m no good at this.” She tensed in his lap, but Tristan soothed her with another kiss. “I’m not good at being around people. I haven’t been for a long, long time. And this thing between us….”

Tristan’s brow pinched in what looked like pain. Tessa was on pins and needles while she waited for him to continue.

“I’ll try,” he finally said. “I don’t know how to do this. But I’m willing to learn. For you, Tessa.” Tristan’s eyes burned into her, bright with hope and a lingering shred of fear. “I promise I’ll try.”

She nodded, unease crawling up her legs with a chill. What a thing to ask him. What a thing to hope for.

You’re such a hypocrite, Tessa. You want him try. You want him to trust you. Have you forgotten what you’ve done? The things you have yet to do? How far do you think this stunning, stoic man is going to run when he finds out all of the things you’re not saying?    

* * *

It was late afternoon by the time they left the cabin. The storm had cleared hours before and, barring the ocean debris scattered across the sand, broken branches, and scattered pieces of palm trees, the resort and the surrounding area had survived relatively unscathed.

Tristan walked Tessa back to the kitchen. He dropped a quick kiss on her temple before saying goodbye. He had to make a more thorough assessment of the property, just to ensure there wasn’t any major damage. Then he and the hotel crew, aided by Grant’s team, would begin the cleanup.

“Tonight?” Tessa grabbed his hand before he left.

“What about it?”

“Dinner.”

Tristan gave her one of his beautiful, hesitant smiles. “You want to do dinner tonight?”

“I do.” Tessa watched him, suddenly nervous. “Do you?”

“Yes.” His smile traveled all the way to his eyes. “I do. Very much.”

“Great.” She felt giddy. “Come to my apartment later. My turn to host.”

“It’s a deal.” Tristan kissed the hand that held his before heading towards the spa.

Tessa dug through her cubby for the spare clothes she kept in the kitchen. The outfit she’d worn to search for Tristan was long gone, and his shirt and shorts she’d worn back were so large she could barely walk in them, let alone work.

The past forty-eight hours had been intense. With their unexpected fight in his suite, thinking he’d disappeared, the stress of the storm, and everything that had happened in the cabin, Tessa was exhausted. But a nervous energy hummed through her and she knew she’d never be able to sleep. Time in her kitchen was the perfect solution.

She was almost finished with a ginger spice cake that she wanted ready for the fall season when her phone rang. It was loud and sharp in the large, empty room.

She didn’t need to look to know who it was. She hadn’t heard from him in days. His call was overdue.

“Survive the storm in one piece?”

Tessa knew from the way he asked he didn’t really care about her answer. “Yes.”

“Good. We’re all so glad.”

“I’m sure.” Tessa ran her finger through a dusting of cinnamon on the counter.

“We got the update you sent. It was much appreciated.”

“I don’t really care if it was appreciated,” she bit out. “I just want to make sure you’re sticking to your end of the deal.”

“You mean, not telling the feds about your father’s less-than-above-board deals, which would result in them stripping his remaining assets? That end of the deal?”

“Yes,” Tessa hissed.

“Don’t worry, Ms. Armstrong,” the man answered. “Your father is safe for now. Which means he has enough money to keep paying for your grandmother’s medical treatment. And that will continue for as long as you keep your end of the deal.”

Tessa didn’t say anything. He knew the threat would work as well as it had the first time.

“Good,” he continued. “So glad we understand each other. Especially since I’m calling with a new task.”

“What do you want?”

“No need to take that tone of voice, Ms. Armstrong.”

“No need to beat around the bush either.”

The rumble of laugher she heard on the other end chilled her.

“It’s a good thing I like you, Tessa. Otherwise, I’d be inclined to make this significantly harder on you. To make it more of a learning experience.”

“Sorry.” Her palms broke out in a cold sweat as she forced out the apology. “Things have been stressful. With the hurricane. I didn’t mean to be so abrupt.”

“Apology accepted. This time.” He shifted on the other end, his fingers hitting a keyboard. “Now, where were we? Ah, yes. Your next project.”

Tessa waited, her chest tight. This was it, when things went from bad to worse. The demand that pushed her from being Grace’s really crap friend to a traitor. The defining moment that would change her from the woman who cared deeply about Tristan to the one who betrayed both him and his cousin.

“We need access to a room.”

“That’s it?” It seemed far too simple.

“That’s it. Though I think you’ll find in this case, Ms. Armstrong, the devil’s in the details.”

“Which are?”

“Oh, don’t sound so irritated. If it was a simple matter of getting any room don’t you think we’d just call and do it ourselves?”

“Yes. I suppose.”

“And you’d be correct. We need access to a very specific room. Tomorrow.”

“So soon?” Tessa almost dropped the spoon she’d forgotten she was holding.

“So late, actually. We wanted to start earlier, but the hurricane forced a delay.”

“Okay,” Tessa breathed out, long and uneven. “Tell me what you need.”

The man gruffly outlined what she had to do. It sounded deceptively simple. Until Tessa realized exactly what he was asking for.

“That’s impossible,” she stuttered.

“Nothing’s impossible,” he retorted. “Not with the right motivation.” Tessa’s phone vibrated with an incoming text. “And I think you’ll find, Ms. Armstrong, that you have more than enough in that department. Go ahead and look. I’ll wait.”

Without hanging up, Tessa jumped from the call screen to her texts. Her fingers trembled as she opened up the picture he’d sent. It was high quality. Not grainy, not taken from a distance. Gran was in a large chair at her nursing home, a smile, bright but a little watery, on her face as she chatted with a friend next to her. Gran’s arm was stretched to the side, the two needles for her dialysis treatment perfectly visible where they punctured her papery skin. Whoever had taken the picture had been close. And had known exactly what Tessa needed to see to stay focused.

Her voice was strained when she returned to the call. “And if I can’t do it?”

“I really don’t think you want to find out.” He left the threat hovering, unsaid.

Motivation or not, Tessa knew this was going to turn around and bite her in the ass, leaving a bloody mess. And, quite possibly, cost her the life she was starting to build on the island.

Her tongue tasted flat and metallic. “Fine. I’ll get it.”

“Good.”

The call ended with a click and Tessa slumped against the counter, defeated. Her head pounded and all of her breaths came up short. She’d long since forgotten about her cake and the batter sat lifeless in the pan.

“Fuck,” she muttered out loud, dumping the entire thing in the sink.

There was only one person she could think of who could help her. Tessa hated to make the call, hated to drag Grace into her mess, into her deception. But, desperate and exhausted, she couldn’t see another way.

Her fingers trembled as she dialed.

“Tessa! Is everything all right? Are you okay?” Grace answered the call with a flurry of questions.

“Yes, we’re fine. I’m fine.” Well, not really.

“How bad was the hurricane? I can’t believe you were there all on your own. I know you hate storms.”

“Grace, I’m fine. I swear. Besides, I wasn’t alone.”

“Tristan?”

“Yeah. He kept me company. Made sure I was safe,” she answered simply. This was not the time to get into that part of the story.

“Oh, thank God. So you’re both okay?”

Tessa gave a short laugh. The concern in her friend’s voice was touching. Guilt threatened to drown her. She didn’t deserve Grace’s compassion. Not now. “We’re fine. Stop mothering. Tristan’s fine. I’m fine. The resort’s fine. Everything is—”

“Fine. Yeah, I get it,” Grace cut her off. “Your excessive use of ‘fine’ doesn’t have me convinced. I know that avoidance tactic as well as any other woman. I’m going to let it slide this once, but only because I’m coming back. Day after tomorrow. So I’ll be able to check how ‘fine’ everything is myself.”

“Mark, too?”

“Yes, both of us. Not that we don’t trust Tristan and Peter, but we need to see the hotel for ourselves. Make sure everything is okay. I wanted to come back today, but Mark has a few more things to sort out with Jack.”

“I can’t wait to see you.” I’m an awful, awful person and I miss you so much.

“Me too. And I especially can’t wait to hear about how things are going with Tristan.”

“Hmm.” Tessa didn’t miss her friend’s speculative tone. Grace was a wonderful friend, but she could be nosy as hell. Well, you might not have to worry about that much longer, given she might not be your friend when she finds out what you’ve done. What you’re about to do….

Tessa evaded the subject, muttering, “I promise I’ll tell you all about it when you get back. But I have a favor to ask in the meantime.”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“Do you think….” Tessa halted, nervous. “I’d like to stay in one of the newly renovated suites.”

“What? Why?”

There was no good reason, but Tessa gave her flimsy response. “Chef and I have been trying out a few new items for the room service breakfast menu. I want to test them myself, to see how they stand up in the real experience. Make sure they travel well, stay warm, that sort of thing.”

Grace thought for a moment. “And you want to do it from one of the new suites? They aren’t even in inventory yet.”

“I know,” Tessa answered, working hard to sound normal. “But they’re the farthest from the kitchen. And since they’ll be occupied by VIP guests, they’re perfect for a trial run. If the food serves well there, it will serve well anywhere.”

“What sorts of dishes are you trying out?” If Grace her friend was nosy, Grace the general manager was precise.

Tessa scrambled for an answer. “Breakfast popovers,” she shouted out, regretting it instantly. There was no way she’d recommend serving popovers on the room service menu. They were too finicky and would collapse way too fast. The only way to eat them was straight out of the oven, when they were still hot and butter melted on contact.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Only partially. Which is why I want to try it out.”

Grace was quiet, thinking. “I’m not sure this is going to work, Tessa. I’m all for pushing the boundaries and upping our game, but this seems like a disaster waiting to happen.”

Oh, if only you knew.

“You might be right, but I still want to try. What’s the worst that could happen? The rooms aren’t even available yet, so it’s not like we’re displacing a guest. And I can pay for the staff hours out of the restaurant budget, if you want. It won’t take long. So it’s not a huge loss if it doesn’t work out.”

“What has Tristan been telling you? I’m not such a hard ass that I’d make you pay for this out of your budget. We can afford a trial run with room service. Christ, Tessa.”

Grace sounded so annoyed Tessa might have laughed. If she hadn’t been on the verge of crying.

“Yes. You can do it,” her friend continued. “I’ll call Carrie. She’ll get you a key.”

“Thanks. I’ll text you the room number.”

“Does it have to be that specific room?”

“Yes,” Tessa answered quickly, digging her free hand into her tangled hair. God, what a fucking mess. “Yes, sorry. It’s just, I, uh, walked them all. There’s one specific room that’s perfect for the test run. If the popovers work there, we’ll be all set.

Grace gave a resigned sigh. “Yes. Okay. Text me the room number. I’ll put Carrie on it. She’ll let you know when you can grab the key. You want it today, right?”

“Yes. Saves me from having to get it early tomorrow. I want to do the test run first thing.

“Okay. Let me get on this. Anything else? You want to cheer me up with stories about Tristan spoon-feeding you soup in his suite during the hurricane? Or maybe you guys got a little handsy over dessert? You know, Mark and I—”

“And stop,” Tessa interrupted, a rough laugh breaking free. “I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to know.”

“Spoilsport. You’re just like Sadie.”

Tessa had never met Jack’s girlfriend, but she’d heard wonderful things about her from Grace. “I like her already.”

“Ugg. Fine. Okay, let me go do your bidding, Chef Armstrong. Expect to hear from Carrie soon.”

“Thanks, Grace. Really appreciate it.”

“Yup. But remember, regardless of whether this experiment works, you owe me chocolate.”

“Always,” Tessa answered, her heart hurting as Grace ended the call.

Fuck. Now, on top of being a horrible person, she had to wake up extra early to make popovers.